


Simmer

by woodelf



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-20 04:03:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22942921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodelf/pseuds/woodelf
Summary: Belle's got a new string bikini. Rumpelstiltskin approves.
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Simmer

Belle Gold stretched lazily in the summer sun, tipping back the wide-brimmed straw hat that was shielding her face and reaching for the beach bag that sat on the ground next to her lounge chair. She pulled out her phone and dialed Rumpelstiltskin.

“Hello, sweetheart. Shop busy today?” Really, the only time it ever had been busy was when the Curse had broken and everybody had wanted back suddenly-remembered items of theirs that had resided in the pawnshop, so she wasn’t expecting anything but the answer she got.

_"Not particularly, no."_

“That’s good. Then you wouldn’t mind coming home for a bit? I’ve been lying in the sun and I’m ready to turn over, but I need a hand to put some sunscreen on my back. Might yours be available?”

_“For a price, I’m sure it could be arranged.”_

Her dimples appeared, sure she wouldn’t mind paying whatever he asked. “Deal. I’m in the backyard. See you soon.” She turned over and closed her eyes, waiting for her husband.

By the time he arrived, she was already half-drowsing. The first thing she was aware of was his broad, strong hand on her back.

“Well, what have we got here?” His voice was rich, and warm, and approving. “Gone shopping, my love?” He slid his hand over the swell of her butt, clad in a crocheted string bikini bottom. 

“Mm-hm.” She smiled without opening her eyes. For a few skimpy pieces of liner fabric and a bit of yarn, the bikini had been ridiculously expensive, but she suspected the effect was going to be well worth the price. “Like it?”

“From what I can see of it, I do indeed.” He fingered the bow holding the strings together in back, then gave a tug to one loose end and pulled it free. the strings slithering off her back to fall at her sides. “Sunscreen?”

“In the bag.” She swallowed hard, a throb of arousal already starting in her core.

He drizzled some out along the length of her spine, the smell of coconut filling the air. Splaying his hands on her bare back, he began massaging the smooth creamy lotion in with a firm touch, spreading it out from her spine to her shoulder blades, then down to her rib cage, fingers curling around her sides in a tickling caress that Belle squirmed away from with a squeak. He grinned and relented, moving back up and over her shoulders and neck, then out along the backs of her arms, adding more lotion as needed. Then he shifted position and started at the other end,, doing the soles of her feet and gliding, slowly and smoothly, back up her calves and thighs.

Belle felt like she was melting, dissolving into a puddle of pleasure, existing only where he touched her. She felt his hands come to rest on her hips, pause, then tug at the bows that held her bikini bottoms on. The strings parted, the scrap of fabric easily brushed aside. He drizzled some more sunscreen onto her pale skin and worked it firmly into her buttocks. She shifted restlessly, and then his fingers slipped between her legs, stroking, stroking, and she moaned low in her throat, spreading her thighs, welcoming his touch.

“Gods, you’re wet,” he murmured.

“Did you think I wouldn’t be?” She kept her head turned sideways, pillowed on her folded arms, eyes heavy-lidded until his fingers left her and they flew open. “Hey –”

“Turn over,” he instructed.

She hesitated for a moment, knowing what would happen and then turned, her unfastened bikini falling away and being left beneath her as she shifted onto her back, her body completely exposed to his hungry gaze. It gave her a little thrill to do this outdoors, where she could hear the not too distant sounds of cars and lawnmowers and kids on bikes, calling to each other, even people walking by and chatting, knowing that the only thing shielding her from their view was a six foot privacy fence.

He tugged the crocheted top out from under her and held it up for inspection. Two tiny triangles of white yarn, joined by the string threaded through the channels at the bottom of each one that tied around her back and the ones that tied her neck attached to two wooden rings. “You’ll have to model this for me later.”

“I could have modeled it now if you hadn’t removed it,” she said huskily, noting that she’d gotten a light tan, her breasts now two paler triangles of white against her surrounding skin.

“But then I wouldn’t be able to do this,” he smirked, and drizzled some lotion onto her belly, and began to thoroughly massage it into her front, taking the time to tug and play with her nipples before working his way down to her belly and over her hips and thighs, her legs falling open in invitation.

She closed her eyes and rocked up to meet his fingers as they dipped between her folds again, rubbing along and over her clit, her breath quickening.

And then he stopped again.

“Rumpel,” she begged desperately.

“Don’t move, darling. I’ll be right back. And don’t touch yourself.”

He rose from his perch on the side of the lounge chair and she watched him disappear inside the house in disbelief. She curled her hands around the frame of the chair, gripping that to prevent her from touching herself, and squeezed her thighs together. Was this the price he’d spoken of? To tease her and leave her wanting?

He was back in a few minutes, with something in his hand. He held up the ben-wa balls for her to see, the two ivory-coloured plastic spheres joined on a cord with a long loop at one end. Ever since Belle had noticed the door marked “Aladdin’s Cave. Adults only.” at the back of Sherri’s Gift Shoppe, things had gotten a little more interesting in the bedroom, to say the least. “Open up,” he said softly, and pushed the first ball into her vagina, then nestled the second one against her clit, the arrangement she'd found she preferred instead of both inside her. He pulled her bikini bottoms back into place, keeping the ball pressed securely against her clit, while she automatically tightened her muscles around the one inside her, and he re-tied the strings at her hips. He then pulled a length of gold chain out of his pocket, with a cinch loop at each end. He draped the chain around her neck, criss-crossing it over her chest and slipping the loops over each of her erect nipples, snugging them up firmly. Her hips jerked up at the sensation, the movement causing the chain to tug lightly at her imprisoned nipples, and the weights inside the balls to shift and rock, setting up tiny vibrations against her already sensitised clit and against her inside walls. She almost came when he rubbed his thumb over her plumped-up nipple.

“Comfortable?" 

She nodded, the loops cinched to a pleasurable snugness without being too tight. "Yes.” She cleared her throat. They’d made love outside before, but this felt one step further. She felt wanton, the cool chain quickly warming against her skin. Chained and claimed, she thought. His. 

“Back onto your stomach,” he instructed, and Belle turned carefully, settling her weight onto her forearms and keeping her upper body elevated slightly so she could feel the pull and tug of the light chain on her nipples, the weighted ball rocking within her. She pressed her pubis down against the lounge chair, shifting minutely against the one nestled against her clit, the small rippling movements sending tiny jolts of pleasure through her. 

“Now,” said Rumpelstiltskin, getting up and going to stand in front of her so she could see him. “I don’t want you touching yourself until I return home later. If you can get yourself off without using your hands, that’s all right, but you can’t touch between your legs and you can’t touch your breasts. And the balls stay in place except when you have to go to the bathroom. Will you do that for me?”

Belle looked at him, at the obvious bulge in his crotch. “What about you?”

“I won’t touch, either. But I’ll have to smile and act like I’m not thinking about you aroused and humping yourself to a climax while I’m serving a customer,” he said drily. “I think you’ve got the better end of the deal.”

“All right.”. She touched her tongue to her upper lip. She _had_ agreed to pay a price in exchange for his service, after all. “But I expect to be thoroughly fucked when you get home,” she said sweetly.

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his cock stiffen a little more. “You’re not helping, love.”

“Good.” She smiled. “Have a nice day.”

——————————————

She tried, after he left, to bring herself off, to find her peak. She felt swollen, and throbbing, wet and slippery with arousal. She rocked her hips against the lounge chair, dragging her swollen nipples back and forth over the bumpy vinyl loops that she was lying on, and soon her hips jerked violently, a quick, single spasm, a sort of mini orgasm, leaving her feeling irritated and unsatisfied, but aware from past experience that that was it for now. Maybe she could try again later. She tried to relax, and drifted into a state of half-dreaming, bestirring herself when the sun began to slide off her body, leaving her in shade.. She stood up, tightening her muscles to keep the plastic ball inside her and simply picking up her bikini top, the chain that bound her nipples shifting and swinging between her breasts as she gathered her things and walked inside. She debated taking a quick shower but decided against it, going to the bathroom mirror and gazing at her flushed reflection. She took the bikini top and carefully put it back on, the fabric pressing the slim gold chain against her flesh. She put a gauze cover up on and went to find something to do until Rumpelstiltskin came home. 

Moving around kept the weights in the balls rocking against her, so she did a little light cleaning, then went into the kitchen and made some macaroni salad for dinner, to go with the fresh cod fillets she’d bought. They’d only take a few minutes to grill on the stove; this wasn’t the sort of weather in which she wanted to turn the oven on. She took out the big watermelon half and cut some into ready to eat chunks. Wondering how the cold, wet fruit would feel against her heated flesh, she unbuttoned her shirt enough to pull her bikini top aside and dragged the piece of watermelon over her nipple, the cinched loop keeping it erect and puckered, and caught her breath on a moan. She moved the fruit in a few slow, delicious circles before guiltily realising this probably counted as touching herself, even if it was indirectly. She popped the watermelon chunk in her mouth and covered her breast back up reluctantly, putting the bowl of chunked melon back into the refrigerator. She was making it worse for herself, she thought, although it felt good, too, that constant simmer under her skin. But maybe she would take a break and be still for a little while.

She poured herself a glass of iced tea and curled up with a book on the couch, tucking her feet beneath her and draping a light afghan over her legs as she cooled off, but she didn’t want to change, didn’t want to take the bikini off until Rumpelstiltskin got home. She gave up after a couple of chapters, unable to concentrate any longer.. She’d drunk the iced tea and kept thinking about what they could do with the ice cubes left in the bottom of her glass. Reaching into her shirt, she repositioned the two strands of the chain so they lay directly over her nipples, feeling the extra stimulation as she shifted and moved. 

Restlessly she got up, and fetched a pair of shorts to pull on over the bikini and went out into the garden. There were always plenty of flowers to deadhead, and she bent and leaned over and stretched as she did so, the chain rubbing, and tugging, and rolling over her nipples until she was desperate to be suckled to relieve the aching throb of them. The weights in the balls between her legs rocked and vibrated against their plastic casings, transferring to her flesh and keeping her juices flowing until she couldn’t stand it anymore. She dumped out her bucket and went back inside, intending to grind against the bed or the couch in search of relief, when she noticed the time. Only one more hour, she thought, but a minute later heard Rumpelstiltskin’s car pull up in the driveway. He’d come home early. She quickly shimmied out of her shorts. 

She met him at the door, yanking him inside and slamming it behind him. Grabbing a handful of his hair, she raised up on her toes and kissed him hard, plundering his mouth and hearing his briefcase thunk to the floor before he was backing her up until she came up against the kitchen counter. She released him, to reach back and grab the edge of it, the movement thrusting her breasts forward. She braced her arm muscles and gave a little hop, lifting herself up to sit on the counter and bringing herself up to his eye level. 

“My gods, Belle.” He raked his eyes over her hungrily, surprised but very happy to see she was still wearing her bikini. “Miss me?” he asked cheekily.

“You have no idea.” She glanced down, saw him outlined long and thick against his left thigh. “Were you like that all day?” She molded her hand to him through his trousers, and he groaned.

“Not quite so bad, though I’ve been half hard most of the day, thinking about you. When I finally got in the car to come home, I stopped fighting it. Let me see you.” He reached for the buttons of the sheer cover up, pushed it off her shoulders, his eyes aflame with desire as he took in the tiny scraps of crocheted yarn that covered her pubis and her breasts. Somehow it was more alluring than seeing her entirely naked. Maybe it was the promise of being able to remove them once again, like unwrapping a present. He hooked a finger under the golden chain that criss-crossed between her breasts and gave it a tug, Belle whimpering and her mouth falling open in abandonment when he cupped his hand between her legs and ground the ben-wa ball against her clit.

“Have you been a good girl today?” he asked breathlessly. He dipped a finger inside her bottoms and found her soaking wet.

“Yes!”

“Did you manage to come?”

“Not really. Not properly.” She reached for the knot of his tie, quickly loosing it and pulling it free, stuffing it into his jacket pocket and reaching for his shirt buttons. 

He allowed her to open four, while he dealt with his waistcoat buttons lower down, then he pushed forward to stand between her legs, Belle promptly wrapping her legs around him and hooking her ankles together behind his ass. He unbuttoned the gauze cover up, tugging the scrap of fabric covering one breast to the side and brushing his thumb over the swollen, dusky nipple. Belle jerked.

“Please,” she begged, her voice rough with need. "Suck it.“ She buried her hand in his hair and urged his head down. 

"I’d take this off,” he murmured, his tongue coming out and lapping over the peak and the cinched loop that imprisoned it, “But I want to see you like this when I fuck you, laid out naked except for the chain adorning you, your breasts bouncing back and forth as I rock you into the mattress, and with every tug of the chain at your nipples you’ll remember me putting it on you. Is that what you want, Belle? Or should I take it off now?” He took the gold links between his teeth and gave a light pull, feeling her grind her hips against him. He thrust back against her.

“No.” Her heart beat a little faster at the image he had painted for her, feeling even more juices leak out of her. “Leave it on.”

He lapped at her again, then closed his mouth around her and sucked hard. Belle cried out, the strong, direct pressure after so many hours of teasing enough to send her over the edge at last, the vibrations of the balls inside her and alongside her clit keeping her at the peak of climax as wave after wave washed through her, Rumpelstiltskin’s mouth only leaving her to shift to her other breast as he bared it, suckling hungrily until suddenly it was too much and she pushed him away, reaching down inside her bottoms to tug the balls free, the action causing her muscles to contract violently one more time. Rumpelstiltskin caught her wrist to steady it, and sucked the balls into his mouth, one after another, cleaning her musky fluids off of them and swallowing. 

Belle lay back on her elbows, panting, waiting out all the fluttering little aftershocks running through her and feeling wonderfully boneless. 

Rumpelstiltskin bent and laid a kiss on her belly. “I just have one question, my lovely wife – why did one of your breasts taste like watermelon?” He glanced up to see her flush. 

“I was, um, cutting some to eat later and I wondered what a chunk would feel like against me. But then I thought that might be considered touching, even if it wasn’t directly, so I stopped.”

“And how did it feel?” A gleam lit his eyes. 

“Cool. Good,” she admitted. 

“And where is the melon now?”

“In the refrigerator. In a bowl.” She watched as he went and got the melon out, looking utterly disheveled and moving awkwardly, very obviously aroused. She would have to do something about that, she thought. And despite his open shirt, he was still very much overdressed. 

“What… are you going to do with that?” she asked, suspecting he had more plans than a pre-dinner snack. She didn’t know if she could stand much more stimulation to her breasts right now, but the ball had only teased her, she wanted him inside her, filling her completely, hard and strong and surging with life. She wetted her lips.

“You still feel hot, my love, and I know I am. And hungry.” He got a fork, and speared a chunk to put in his mouth. “And, if you’ve recovered enough to walk –” He held out his free hand to her and she sat up and took it, sliding off the counter. and pulling her shirt over her exposed chest, but only fastening one button midway down to hold it on. "– then I need to get out of these trousers before I do myself a damage.“

"Well, there’s a cure for that.” She reached for his fly, ignoring his protests and batting his hand away when he tried to stop her. Carefully she pulled his erection out, the head of his cock flushed a beautiful shade of plum. She ran her thumb over it, relishing the small breathless noise he made. “There. Now you can walk.” She smiled impishly.

The cooler air felt good on his heated flesh, her touch even better. But he wished she’d waited until they’d gotten to the bedroom, no matter how stiffly he’d had to walk. “I look silly.” He glanced down at his cock jutting up out of his clothes. 

“I’ll tell you a secret.” She leaned close to his ear. “I love seeing you walk around with your cock up and bobbing in front of you. It turns me on.”

“Oh.” He swallowed, and made a mental note of that. “Well, then.” Holding the container of watermelon in one hand, he crooked his elbow out in invitation. “Would my lady care to accompany me to the bedroom?”

“Your lady would,” she said, taking his arm. She picked up the plastic balls on their looped cord which he had set on a napkin on the counter and tucked them into his jacket pocket. “Do you think Snow and Charming ever get up to anything like this?”

Rumpelstiltskin nearly choked. He looked from Belle to the counter she’s so recently been on and back again, trying to imagine Snow and David in their place. He couldn’t. “No?" 

Belle scrunched up her nose and shook her head. "Nah, me neither. You should ask him, though,” she teased. 

“Me? Why not you ask Snow?” he demanded. 

“Because you’re closer to David than I am to Snow,” she said reasonably. “Besides, if you ask him whether he’s ever been in Aladdin’s Cave, his face will tell you everything without him even saying a word.”

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled, knowing she was right. David would either look puzzled or turn beet red. “Maybe I will,” he said, the idea of flustering the earnest but simple shepherd-turned-prince an appealing one. “Although if he says yes, the image might scar me forever, you minx.” He gave her behind a light swat as she preceded him up the stairs. “I’ve seen Whale come out of the alley behind the gift shop, though, carrying one of their bags.”

“Have you?” Belle looked intrigued. “Maybe I should be having a chat with Ruby." 

"Why this sudden interest in everyone’s sex lives, love?” he asked, amused, as they reached their bedroom door.

“Maybe because I’m so happy in mine?” she mused. “And I wonder if it’s as good – or as interesting – for other people?” She turned to face him, boldly wrapping a hand around his still hard cock and backing towards their bed with an invitation in her eyes, perforce leading him after her.

“Flatterer,” he rasped, his voice dropping lower than usual, feeling himself pulse in her hand. He’d heard of men being led around by their cocks before, but he was pretty sure the phrase wasn’t usually meant quite so literally.

Not that he was complaining. He was as far from complaining as it was possible to be, as he set the watermelon down and proceeded to strip off his clothes with as much haste as possible while Belle went into the bathroom and grabbed one of the large beach towels she’d bought for this purpose, shaking it out over the bedspread. Silly to need to wash the whole bedspread when putting a towel down caught most of the mess, she’d pointed out practically, and forbidden him from using any unnecessary magic in the way of cleaning. And the way she was creaming today, there was going to be a mess, he admitted. She slipped out of her shirt and lounged back on the bed, watching him and slowly pulling loose the bows that held her bikini on and tossing it aside as he crawled up the bed, like a hunting tiger, and settled between her legs, eyes gleaming.

“I believe you said something –”

He pushed forward, his cock skidding through all the creamy fluids that coated her.

“–- about wanting to be thoroughly fucked?”

He grasped his cock, steadying it, and speared forward again, sinking deeply into the blissful haven of her body in one long, smooth, easy stroke. He rested his forehead against hers, the feel of her gripping along every inch of him even better than he’d dreamed of all afternoon.

“I did,” Belle admitted, smoothing her hands over his hips, urging him even closer yet. 

He lifted his head and kissed her. “Never let it be said that I am not a dutiful and obliging husband.” He pulled out and thrust back in, hard, rocking her back into the mattress as he’d promised her. The time for teasing was done.

At least until the next round. They could have a snack in between. Cold and wet, the watermelon sat waiting.


End file.
